


Did You Always Think You'd Be This Famous?

by Kirabiyaka



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Powered, Alternate Universe - Popstar, Angst with a Happy Ending, Charles helps with tough love, Domestic Violence, Erik is troubled, Everyone lives, F/M, M/M, Multi, Though there's a few scares
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:24:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1350643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kirabiyaka/pseuds/Kirabiyaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of one-shots, loosely based on an real life young stars and some typical teenage stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well I've done it. My first officially published thing. My baby, if you will. I hope anyone who reads this will bother to leave comments, or even like it. I really don't know what to say here.  
> The chapters move the story forward, but can really be read in any order if that makes sense?

"I don’t need a babysitter," Erik murmurs. It’s not really a murmur more than just his normal speaking tone. He’d always had a soft speaking voice, the other kids on set would always make fun of him for it. That didn’t change as he grew older and it certainly didn’t help much when he started smoking. "I don’t need you to hold my hand during my interview, I’m perfectly capable of doing this alone." Charles, or X, as Erik refers to him in the media, shifts in his chair across from the young star. “I just want to make sure they don’t butcher your image. I get it, Kimmel’s one of the nicer hosts, but still. You’ve been the butt of jokes for weeks now.” Erik can’t believe they’re having this conversation now. So what, his Grammy performance was a little explicit. It’s not his job to be a role model, it’s his job to make music and sell records. Which he does. Too bad he can’t stop looking at the OK! Magazine in the green room. The cover reads, from Disney Boy to Party Boy and Erik just might throw up. The picture, of him, of course is a grainy paparazzi shot of him on his balcony nearly naked. On the insert they have a close up of his bong. He can add that to list of things he’s going to have to discuss tonight. Along with his supposed engagement, supposed love child, Disney threatening lawsuit for him saying they ruined his childhood (they did!). “My image is fine,” he defends moments later. “Can you ask someone if it’s okay if I go out front and let a few fans in? There was a younger kid, looked pretty bummed out there….” If only the magazines and blogs would write about the little things, like this. Erik takes pride always gives a few fans the night of a lifetime when he does the talk shows, performances too, and he wouldn't mind a little credit for it. Niceness just doesn’t sell like controversy does. Charles gets up to fulfill the stars wish and Erik sips from his water bottle. His nerves make his hands shake, and he fumbles for the little baggie of Xanex in his backpack. He feels guilty for taking it, especially after he and Charles had just had the 'no drugs' discussion. If only addiction wasn't so hard. At least he was prescribed these pills. His parents, or Charles who seemed to think he was Erik's parent, couldn't confiscate a prescription. He smiled to himself and popped two, his usual dosage before any interview and stood, running a hand through the short and bleached crop he called hair. Jimmy Kimmel was waiting.


	2. You're Lying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of different style with this chapter, as we take a dive into Erik's personal demons and Charles' thoughts on them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, these short ficlets/chapters don't follow any particular order, just a story of the life of a Pop Star.

Erik's tone gets defensive when he lies. 

Charles picked up on it almost immediately when they first met and again every time the kid had broken up with Sebastian Shaw. That seemed to be all Erik did these days was break up with Sebastian. Charles thought it was ridiculous, but then again it wasn't his place to say so. 

 

"Do you still love him?" He'd asked glancing up from his cell phone when he'd heard Erik shift at the mention of their break-up on Entertainment. Tonight. He watched in silence as Erik's face went from disgust to sorry, but said nothing waiting for him to answer. 

"No," Erik said, calmly. An obviously rehearsed statement, because he slammed his fork down on the table beside him. "I never loved Sebastian. We were just publicity, helping each other get better media coverage. See?" he gestures wildly to the television. 

Charles simply nods. He knows Erik's true feelings will distinguish themselves on his new album, they both know really. It's what he does. Erik denies any negative emotion, Charles takes note of it, it's been like that as long as they've done business together. Mr and Mrs. Lehnsherr always assure Charles that the behavior started when Erik was a child and not something he uses purposely to make Charles' job any harder. 

They both watch in silence while the reporter goes on and on about Sebastian and Erik. Charles can see the anger slowly bubbling to the surface, as well as what appears to be anguish or despair, possibly even sadness. He quirks an eyebrow in Erik's direction. The bright and smiling mask the star usually wears is disappearing as the program goes in depth. Screen shots of tweets and photos of their last vacation from Erik's instagram account flood the screen. When a 'relationship analyzer' begins to talk about the 'signs of how their relationship really was' Erik gets anxious. Charles moves to turn the television off, knowing well that this is the last thing Erik needs to see, Erik reaches his arm out to stop him. "I'm watching that." he murmurs, the grip he has on Charles' arm deepening. The woman onscreen mentions there may have been some abuse and Charles glances to Erik trying to see if there's any hint that accusation could be true. He sees Erik's jaw clench, and his free hand make a tight fist. Before Charles can even have a clear thought he's on the move to turn the t.v off before Erik can put his foot through it. 

"That fucking bitch," Erik grumbles angrily and Charles makes note at how overly defensive he is. "She doesn't know a goddamn thing." Erik storms out of Charles' suite and Charles knows he won't hear from him for the rest of the day, at least until he tries to coax Erik out of his room for a bite to eat later. 

Hours pass and the door to Erik's room still hasn't opened. Finally Charles crosses the hall, taping lightly on the door. "Erik," he murmurs softly, giving the door three more light taps. "You um, you have to eat something. " he tries his hardest to sound more like a concerned friend and less like a lecturing manager. "You never finished your omelet. Come on, open up." He waits a few minutes and tries again, then waits a few more. His growing concern ceases when he here's Erik's shuffling on the other side and then the soft whisper of his voice. He can't help but press his ear to the door and listen, when he hears desperation in Erik's words. 

"Seb, Sebastian, please, just hear me out. I didn't tell anyone anything I swear. You know I love you." With that, Charles moves to turn back towards his own room. Then he hears Erik pause, assuming it's to listen to whatever lies Sebastian is spewing into Erik's ear. "Oh, okay." Erik sounds disappointed and Charles' heart aches for him. "I'll see you on Sunday then. Yeah.. Okay, okay. I love you, Sebby." 

 

Charles winces. He knows (hopes) Erik will learn eventually, but he absolutely hates sitting back and watching him get hurt time and time again. He also knows that they'll be broken up again before the month is over. He crosses the hallway, back into his own room and settles down with a book he's been meaning to read. A short while later when Charles pin points the sound of room service delivery he smiles. At least the kid's eating.


	3. Cycles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik needs Sebastian more than he ever anticipated he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik's POV. I italicized Logan's speech because he makes some valid [yet vague] points about being the loved one of someone suffering with addiction.  
> TW: Mentions of drug abuse.

Erik’s life changed with the seasons. Summer to Winter. VMA’s to Grammy’s. Blond to brown, Sebastian to Logan. I hate you’s to I love you’s. 

He isn't sure which comes first with Sebastian anymore. Their flings usually follow a blowout argument with Logan. 

“I can’t be with an addict anymore, I’m done watching you kill yourself” Says the actor, pleading for Erik to just try for them. To not give up so easily. 

“Another Oscar-worthy performance! How the fuck do you do it?” Erik shouts in return, pushing Logan further away on purpose. He must know at this point, that he’s no good for the other man. “Get out of here,” he spats. When Logan actually starts to retreat, Erik panics. His eyes search for something in Logan’s body language to anchor them together, to make him stay. He back-peddles the previous statements, stepping closer and reaching his hands out for a hug. “Baby, Logan. I-I didn't mean it.” he stammers. “Really, I didn’t. Don’t go.” It’s Erik whose pleading now, not much of a surprise to either of them. 

Logan’s clenched jaw eases and his eyes hold a certain sadness. All he wants to do is pull Erik close. Hold him and kiss him until the toxicity of addiction lets the actor go once and for all. “ I can’t. “ he murmurs softly, leaning in close. “ I have to let you get better, there’s nothing I can do. “ So he walks away, closing the door gently behind him and leaving Erik for good. 

It takes a moment, for the severity of what just happened to click in Erik’s mind. He rushes out of his apartment, chasing behind Logan, but it’s too late. That won’t stop him from yelling after his now former lover. “Really, really?” he yells down the empty corridor. If Logan can hear him, Erik isn’t sure but he’s furious. They need(ed) each other, like darkness needs light. How is he supposed to continue on without Logan? “Well fuck you too, buddy!” He screams towards the elevator. Erik trudges back to his place, lungs heavy in his chest. 

Boredom strikes him fairly quickly, but he’d promised Logan he’d stay clean and he intends to keep it that way. He calls Charles first, a weak attempt to curve his sudden hunger for the adrenaline that comes with the high. He’s in bad shape, withdrawal starting to set in faster and faster. He soon realizes it’s nearing three in the morning. There’s no way his manager would be up, let alone taking calls at this hour. It’s his day off. He tries Logan next and his calls go unanswered, though followed by a quick, ‘I’m sorry,’ text. Erik calls back to back to back, until Logan stops texting his apologies. 

For a while he simply sits in the middle of the loft-style apartment, chin in his hands, literally watching the floor. Even more of his calls are ignored and it makes him angry to the point where he destroys his own space. Glasses hurled at the nearest wall as well as his cell. He’ll have to buy a new one when the stores open for the day if anyone wants to reach him. He moves carefully on his feet avoiding the thousands of shards until he’s in the middle of his bed. He brings his knees to his chest and thinks long and hard about what had happened. In all of fifteen minutes Erik comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t need to be sober for Logan. Fuck Logan. Logan walked out on him after he’d begged for his forgiveness and for him to stay. He hadn’t done anything to deserve desertion. Erik reaches for the landline on his bedside table and dials a familiar number hoping- no praying it’s owner picks up. 

 

“Hello, baby.” Sebastian croons when he finally picks up. “I thought I’d never hear from you again.” His voice is deep and smooth like good scotch. Erik’s melting at the sound. Music to his waiting ears. He cracks a smile and Sebastian knows it. 

“Hi, Sebby..” Erik’s naturally soft voice is almost child-like it’s so vulnerable. He knows he’s going to regret this before long, but goddamn he just can’t help it. “Don’t be silly, you knew you would.” he scoots to the edge of his bed and clutches the phone to his ear with both hands. “Can I please see you, Seb?” he whispers. If he were in his right mind, Erik would be embarrassed by the way he clings to Sebastian every word. Every empty promise giving him a sense of false hope. This time won’t be any better than the last or next. Somewhere, underneath the fuzziness of his anger and now talked down calm, Erik knows everything Sebastian is telling him can’t be trusted, but he’s too needy to care at the moment. 

It’s safe to say that this Lehnsherr/Shaw adventure begins with an I love you.


	4. Reconcile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's funny how a Whole Food Market could change your life, isn't it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what to say anymore. This has turned into something completely different than what I'd planned. Though I promise there will be some Erik/Charles interaction in the coming chapters. My apologies to anyone who started this story looking for Cherik.

“How have you been?” That’s the first thing out of Erik’s mouth when he finally sees Logan again. They bump into each other at a Whole Food’s of all places. Logan’s floored by the familiar voice coming from behind him. He’d only run out to buy lemons for his Master Cleanse, he’s dressed in shorts and sandals for Christ’s sake. He’d been successfully forgetting all about Erik and his many problems for all this time and now all it takes is the man’s voice to have his stomach in knots. Why now, when Logan’s hungry and vulnerable does Erik have to resurface. 

“I, um, I’m fine, how are you?” Logan turns around and smiles at the sight before him. He can’t help it really.   
Erik laughs, catching a look at the basket in Logan’s hands. The infamous cleanse. He knows all about it, tried it once and failed miserably. Caving after seeing one of those ridiculous commercials where they zoom in on the burger and you can practically see the calories dripping from the meat. He’d been vegetarian for years now but, God he was starving. It ended with Logan treasuring the taste of a double bacon cheeseburger via Erik’s lips. A glorious day if you ask either party, even now that they’d parted ways. “Getting in shape for a role,?” hr gestures to the lemons in Logan blushes. 

“Is it that obvious?” he gives a genuine smile and it sends butterflies to the singer’s stomach. 

Erik contemplates flirting for a fraction of a second, before he can even stop himself -- “Nah, I just know you,” it sounds much more tender than he anticipated and he even takes a step forward, hand brushing against Logan’s as he grabs a fruit for himself. He tells himself it’s justified, he’ll need it for his water or something. “Good luck. I’m sure you’ll sweep the awards.” he lingers for a second too long, and he’s unsure why. He has someplace to be. He can’t remember that right now, but he knows he has somewhere. He always has somewhere. What the hell is he supposed to be doing right now? Erik wonders while he stares at Logan’s frame. He must have bulked up for the summer, he’s not fat, not by a longshot, he’s just built. Erik lick’s his lips, then bites them to cover. But, Logan hasn’t moved either. He’s stuck in place by the simple fact it’s been so long and Erik looks so good. Still slim, like he’s always been, but healthy. Not at all like he remembers of the night he left. Neither one of them had moved on publicly, Erik takes that into consideration and he’s sure Logan does too. It’s a Hollywood sign that there’s hope of getting back together. 

The sound that comes out of Logan’s mouth could be classified as as a laugh, and he gets comfortable. His stance relaxes into something Erik knows from the inside out. “I’m free tonight, you know?” 

It swims in Erik’s mind, taking laps around his every thought. It’s an obvious invitation he can’t refuse, “Yeah me too.” So long to wherever he was supposed to be today. The whole thing sounds like some cheesy high school conversation. At least what Erik thinks one would sound like. He’s never been to a real high school, only the set of them. 

“So do you want to, I don’t know, see each other tonight?” Logan shrugs casually, a smile just barely curling onto his lips.   
Erik smiles wide, closing the small space between them. “How about you come to mine? I can feed you some real food?” he pats Logan’s shoulder, almost lovingly. 

This is the worst thing that could happen to either of them, Logan especially. He promised himself he was through after the last time. That had been his last straw. The last time when Erik chose his fix over him, he told himself never again. No more addictions, no more fighting over addiction., but Erik look’s so healthy. Like he’s been eating and sleeping. His skin has a healthy glow after all. Logan can feel his knees growing weak. “Still at the apartment? I’ll bring dessert. “ If Logan was Superman, Erik was Kryptonite. There was no doubt.   
The two of them go separate ways for the time being, Erik finishing his grocery shopping and Logan heading home to mentally prepare himself for the night. 

They never agreed on a time, but Logan shows up promptly at 7:30 pm. Erik is still cooking, not even dressed for dinner. He opens the door with his apron on. They hug briefly before Erik takes the tart Logan brought to the fridge. “It’s gluten-free” Logan adds and takes of his jacket, draping it across Erik’s sofa. He sits for a while, but can’t seem to hold still very long. Not when Erik’s dancing around his kitchen the way he is. He takes a moment when the man’s finally still for more than a few seconds, and sneaks up behind him. His arms snake around Erik’s waist and he buries his face in his neck. “I’m proud of you.” he whispers, then plant’s a gentle kiss to slightly tan skin there. He truly is. The entire reason he’d left was so that Erik could get better. It looks like he has and that’s all Logan wanted. 

 

Looks can be so deceiving. Erik has no idea what he’d do if Logan found out he’d been high this entire time. Had been high in the grocery store, had just kicked Sebastian out of his place a mere twenty minutes before. Logan would probably rip him apart with his bare hands is he found out Erik hadn’t spent a moment sober since he’d walked out on him. If Erik was Superman drugs of any sort would be his Kryptonite, but he can’t count the times he wished it were Logan.


	5. Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How much does it take for you to realize just how special you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took a while to get this chapter written, it really just took me to an emotional place. Extra warning for mentions of violence and blood.

Logan Howlett deserves so much more, at least to Charles he does. He puts forth so much effort to keep Erik’s attention. The constant trips back and forth from London to the States alone are mind-boggling. The relationship isn’t worth nearly that much, neither is Erik. His actions anyway. “The man is an award winning actor.” Charles’ voice seethes with disappointment. If he were the object of Logan’s affection he’d be damn sure to pay the man some sort of attention, not blow him off for a random fuck of the week. Apparently Erik thinks otherwise.   
“I’m an award winning musician, Charles. He’ll be fine at that movie premier without me.” He snorts, putting his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. The girl, Angie, Angel? Something like that had since left, probably getting the outline of Erik’s hickey tattooed. “Seb’s coming.” he states calmly and Charles’ skin crawls. He should probably go. Get out of here and he knows it. Erik knows it too, seemingly staring him down. The familiar smell of marijuana hits the air when he finally feels Erik’s eyes off of him. The smoke slowly crowds the air and Charles sits. “Wanna hit?” Erik glances in the other’s direction, blowing an exhale just to left if his face and reaches his arm out to pass the bong.   
Charles declines with a dismissive hand and grabs a book from his bag. It’s a good one he packed this time, George Orwell. He sinks into the chair, curling up to read and drowning out the sound of Erik’s shuffling and fidgeting. He must have been really enjoying his book, by the time Charles acknowledges Erik’s voice calling his name, the star is on his feet. “Are you staying or not?” Erik must be repeating the question. He speaks slowly, enunciating each word with an eyebrow raised. Sebastian, he notices, is also there and Charles looks away. Disgust is the only thing that comes to mind. His lip curls with it. Charles Xavier is drenched in nothing but hatred for Sebastian Shaw. “Well,” he hears Erik in the back of his mind again. Oh… right. He’s supposed to be announcing if he’ll return to his own space or not. “I’ll be staying.” he sits once more making sure to smile. It’s so forced it makes his jaw hurt. He’d rather not stay, instead curling up with his book in his own bed. Erik should be at the premier with Logan, and Sebastian shouldn’t be here. But, someone has to make sure, Erik is safe, and since Charles is currently the only one in the room that cares enough, it’s up to him. “If that’s alright.” He smiles again. As much as he hates Sebastian, he has to be nice. It’s bred within him to always be calm and courteous, to keep everyone satisfied. It’s why he got into this business in the first place. He’s numb and used to faking a smile here and there. Charles doesn’t work to be happy. He works to make himself and his client money. If making the client money means keeping him safe from a glorified drug dealer boyfriend, then so be it. He sits, he reads, he smokes the occasional cigarette.   
Sebastian fumes. He sits but doesn’t take his jacket off. He smokes, he snorts, he drinks, they even order food, but Sebastian never gets comfortable.   
Poor Erik. Naive, nearly innocent Erik. He’s corrupted and Charles feels for him. For everything he’s lost, everything he doesn’t know he’s lost. Everything Sebastian will ruin for him. He watches on in silence until he can’t handle it anymore. The few hours he’s spent just drained every ounce of energy he had. “Sorry to cut it short.” He truly is, knowing Erik’s safety is at risk with his absence. “I’ve got to get to bed, Erik.” He stands and pats the youngers shoulder. “When you’re done here I’ll need to see you regarding next week’s schedule.” There’s an odd feeling crawling up Charles’ spine, so he doesn’t wait for Erik’s response. He just leaves, heading to his own space.   
Erik walked him out, waiting until he was sure Charles was in for the night before returning to Sebastian and taking his seat. He sighed, glancing to the producer. “Why are you acting like this?” he murmured, careful of his tone. He had to be careful around Seb, the tiniest things seemed to set him off lately.   
“Why the hell was he even here?” Sebastian snapped. “You said this was just time for you and me-- Not your fucking manager!”   
Erik laughed, trying to ease the situation. He wrapped his slender fingers around the other’s with a smile. “Seb, I was just trying to be nice.” he defended then quickly realized it was the wrong move.   
“Did I tell you to be nice?” Sebastian stood, looking down at Erik with cruel eyes. “You do what I tell you to do, not what you want.”   
He hated this. Loved Seb with all his heart, but this was something else entirely. Deep down, he knew he deserved better. “Charles is my friend…” Erik tried to defuse. “Wouldn’t you want me to be nice to you? If he and I were hanging out and you were the third wheel?” he stood and placed his hands on Sebastian’s forearms, trying to bring him down and calm again. He didn’t want this evening to turn into something ugly, only for their time together to be carefree and fun. “Sebby, please, I’m sorry.” he smiled again. “See, look, I’ll make it up to you. Come on.. I’m sorry.” he tried pulling Sebastian close, but the man didn’t budge. “Smoke another bowl with me, relax.”  
Sebastian forcefully moved Erik’s hands, grabbing his wrists. “Do you think your sorry means anything to me?” he chastised, dropping one wrist in favor to Erik’s face. He was squeezing so hard, Erik was sure the indentations of his fingers would be left in his bones. He’d been trying so hard to avoid Sebastian’s violent streak, as well as the embarrassment that came with it. His eyes watered from the fear that bubbled to the surface. Sebastian smirked, eyes darkening as he shoved Erik backwards.   
Suddenly, the producer was jealous, outrageously so and he hovered over Erik. “Are you fucking him? Is that what this is about?” The first blow, came. Strong, open-handed, striking Erik just below his eye. “What’s the fucking problem here, huh? Am I not good enough for you? “ Another, fist, connecting with his cheekbone. “I make sure your songs get the best - the best - goddamn mixing in the entire industry.” Again, fist to cheek, then open handed against the entire left side of Erik’s face. “I give you your fixes when you need them.” Once again, fist to cheek, lined up perfectly with his jawline. Erik cringed, not only from the pain, but from the slight sound of bone cracking. He tried to cover his face, but Sebastian moved it all out of the way. Swatting Erik’s hand’s down, then tossing all the pillows to the floor. He brought his fist back and hit Erik again in the same spot, several more blows until he could hardly see due to the swelling. “I am nothing but good to you!” Sebastian shouted. “I jump through loop after loop. I flew from California today for you. Eleven fucking hours on a plane. 5,380 miles for you. And you’re fucking your manager? Fucking Charles.” Sebastian bit out a bitter laugh. “Are you kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?!” Blow after blow, connecting with Erik’s face, chest and arms. This was it. Sebastian didn’t care anymore. Erik could hardly see, breathe. He wasn’t entirely sure whose voice he was hearing now either. Seb’s scalding or his own pleading to stop. The taste of blood had long filled his mouth and Erik felt himself beginning to choke. He sputtered, spittles of crimson hitting Sebastian’s shirt. A crisp contrast to the ivory cream of the linen. That must have brought the man out of his rage, because suddenly it was over.   
Erik’s breathing was ragged and pained. He could only stare at Sebastian, the returning gaze wide eyed. Carefully he cupped his cheek, hand shaking while he moved, being gente so not to add any unnecessary pressure.   
“Let me grab you a washcloth.” The producer mumbled sweetly, as if nothing had happened. Like a switch in the back of his mind had been turned on. He backed away from Erik in a hurry, heading for the bathroom. “ Don’t move, I’ll be right back.”  
As if he could. Erik closed his eyes, unsure if was losing consciousness or just tired. He nodded, showing Seb he at least understood. The movement sent a searing pain across his face and he cried out, then moved his hand to cover his mouth. The saltiness of the tears wasn’t helping much either, but he had to be quiet. If someone were to hear, or come in, both their reputations would be ruined. That and the young star was sure Sebastian would kill him. If anyone laid eyes on what Sebastian had done, Erik would surely be dead. Especially something this bad. He’d had plenty of black eyes, bruised wrists and arms. That he could deal with, could hide. He’d never gotten anything broken aside from his heart. He flinched when Sebastian came close to him again. squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head despite the agony it caused. Erik groaned, though it was meant to be a “don’t touch me,” it didn’t sound much like it. the point got through to Sebastian, though the man still tried. He was so gently now, a complete 180 in comparison, carefully dragging the cool cloth down Erik’s face. Erik continued to shake his head, holding up a trembling hand and pointing to the door. “Please, go.” he managed, soft voice dripping with unimaginable pain. He didn’t-- couldn’t stand to lead Sebastian out, but thankfully he went without hassle. Even apologizing as he gathered his things. He sounded genuine, like he really felt remorse, but Erik was done with everything. He truly, never wanted to see Sebastian again. He waited until the other man was gone before he moved from the couch. His body was aching from the beating and he hobbled to the bathroom. First things first, he spat out what was left of the blood in his mouth, flushing it out of the sink with warm water. He grabbed a towel and dampened it, carefully pressing it to his face. It hurt, terribly so. Erik could feel his face swelling. He couldn’t handle this, not without something stronger than he had. He’d have to get Charles or Frank to help him. As much as he was against it, he was in need of medical attention. He couldn’t keep quiet anymore, not when the fear for his safety outweighed his fear of Sebastian’s wrath. He trudged out of the bathroom, bracing himself on any solid surface he could find. His vision blurred, spots forming in the corners of his eyes as his thought went cloudy. He powered through it still, until he was in the hallway. Before Erik’s brain could comprehend it, he was frantically banging on the door of Charles suite. 

******************************************************************************************  
Thankfully, Charles hadn’t been able to sleep and was awake. He quickly came to the door, grabbing onto Erik just as the singer collapsed. His brow creased, that sense of dread he couldn’t seem to shake earlier, now completely gone in wake of what had happened. Erik was bloody, still bleeding it seemed and could hardly speak. Charles filled with regret, wishing he’d stayed earlier. “Oh, god-” There was no time to panic so he shook his head, carefully heaving Erik’s body into a chair. “Erik? Stay with me, you’re safe now.” Quickly he pulled out his cell, dialing Erik’s driver and bodyguard.   
The next hour dragged on, yet moved so fast. Charles knew better than to call an ambulance, the press would be all over that. Especially with the way they followed Erik all the time. Frank went into overdrive, Azazel as well, packing and loading the car while Charles made a call to the emergency room, alerting them that Erik was coming. “Erik,” Charles walked to him, speaking softly. “Can you talk to me? Did Sebastian do this.” He knew the answer, but he needed to know if Erik was willing to tell him. He hoped he would, but if not Charles had no problem getting authorities involved. He could sit idly by whilst Erik sported a bruise or three under his clothing, or help the star cover the occasional black eye throughout the award seasons, but this was purely unacceptable. Had always been unacceptable and look what his silence earned Erik. When the star said nothing, not even a denial, Charles’ worry increased ten-fold. He always had something to say. Charles sat down, taking Erik’s arm to his lap. There was still a pulse, thank heavens, slower than normal and weak, but it was there. He doubted they would be so lucky the next time. “Don’t worry,” he whispered, unsure if Erik could still hear him. “We’ll get you taken care of-- Azazel!” he called for Erik’s body guard. He was in no condition to walk, and Charles couldn’t carry him on his own.   
Azazel was there in seconds, always willing and ready when it came to Erik. He exchanged knowing glance with Charles and carefully hoisted Erik into his arms. “Come on boss,” he grunted. “I’ve got you.” he spoke again and nodded his head for Charles to leads the way to the car.   
Erik groaned, face slightly scrunched. Every little movement hurt. The dim lights of his building’s hallway hurt. Azazel’s steps hurt. The transfer from arms to car hurt. The ride to the hospital was excruciating. His heart was hurting. He’d wasted years on Sebastian, loved Sebastian and now it seemed it was all for nothing. This wasn’t love. Not like he’d thought for so long. He coughed, weak and feeble with his mouth barely open. The blood dribbled down his chin. He couldn’t even find the strength to wipe it away. His head and chest shaked from the simple cough alone. Never in his life had he been so thankful to see the bright lights of an emergency room sign, even though they made his head spin.


End file.
